


back to where we made our memories

by DoctorFitzy (KittooningMalijah)



Series: Bruises Verse [5]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Father's Day, Gen, Leo Fitz is Holden Radcliffe's Son, also biological family, delayed biological family, found family kinda, homemade card
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-05-13 01:06:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19240726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittooningMalijah/pseuds/DoctorFitzy
Summary: Leo likes to think he's a genius, but he is also fully aware he's the king of stupid ideas. Except, sometimes, those stupid ideas aren't quite so stupid.





	back to where we made our memories

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Father's Day to the Radcliffe family only

It was quite possibly the stupidest idea he'd ever had.

Leo had definitely had a few stupid ideas in his life, and he was almost certain that this one was going to take the number one spot. It wasn't like he had any kind of  _ obligation  _ to do the little crafting project that, upon further reflection, he wished he'd just tossed in the trash before leaving base. But, of course, he was channeling his inner idiot, so he had brought it along with him to the apartment, instead. Maybe the thing he was best at wasn't engineering, but making an absolute fool of himself at any given opportunity.

When the door opened, he flashed what he was sure was an overeager smile and hid the sloppily made envelope behind his back, out of the older man's sight. "Good morning, Radcliffe." His unusually cheery disposition might give away that something was up, but as long as he didn't have to answer any specific questions, he thought everything might go okay.

"Fitz? There's not a game this weekend. What are you doing here?"

In all of his haste getting out the door that morning, Leo had looked at the calendar, but not the right one. He knew about the holiday he had decided to celebrate, kind of, on a whim, but it had never occurred to him to look at the football schedule directly next to it. A bonehead mistake, if there ever was one, but it was too late to back out, now. He had to come up with an excuse, and quick, so he went with something that was as close to the truth as possible - as close as it could be without mentioning what day it was. "Well... my schedule is pretty consistent, now, because I've stopped going in the field so much. I don't have anything to do on weekends. But Jemma has meetings with Mace all day, so... is it okay that I came by?"

There was a moment before he got a quiet nod in response and Radcliffe stepped back to let him step inside. The confusion seemed to be gone, at least, and he wasn't being told to leave, so he figured that could count as a victory for now. "I was just about to start lunch. It was just going to be a sandwich, but I can make something else. I have a few boxes of pasta in the cupboard, I'm sure."

Leo hadn’t even taken a full step inside when he heard the words, shaking his head. If he stayed right where he was, the card would stay hidden behind his back, and maybe he’d never have to acknowledge it. And maybe a thought crossed his mind and he wanted to see just how plausible it was. Even if it was maybe just as stupid as his last idea involving this day and the man in front of him. “Don’t worry about making anything. Let’s go out. My treat.” He didn’t fully understand where the idea had come from, but he liked it — he wanted to do something nice, even if his reasoning didn’t make much sense. “I have a car today and everything. If your heart is really set on sandwiches, we can go to the little place on third?”

After another moment of hesitation, Radcliffe nodded his head again while a smile broke out on his face. “Of course. Let me just finish something up and we can go.”

Leo let himself smile, more genuine that the one that had appeared when he’d knocked on the door, and kept his hands behind his back while he watched the other scientist step over to close the laptop on the counter. Before it closed all the way, he did get a short glimpse of the picture that had been open on the screen, the same one he saw usually only when Radcliffe had had more than two drinks, the only reason he knew the name  _ Agnes _ . That kind of backstory wasn’t something he wanted to linger on for very long, and neither did Radcliffe, apparently. 

“Let’s go, before the lunch rush hits and we’re left without a table.”

* * *

In the end, they didn’t go to the cafe, if only because parking was hard to find and Radcliffe suggested a proper restaurant toward the edge of town, instead. **(** _it’s not fancy, Fitz, just a place I’ve been meaning to try since I discovered it. now we can try it together_ **)**

Even in his blazer and slacks, Leo felt a little underdressed, but he could actually put his hands in his pockets and it helped while they waited almost twenty minutes for a table. He might have underestimated how many people would be going out to eat with their parents, but it wasn’t the worst wait he’d experienced. The machines in the lab could be even slower than that, sometimes.

“It’s so nice to see so many people out for Father’s Day. Have you two made any plans besides lunch?”

All too late, Leo realized what this would look like, and he slid into the booth to avoid answering right away. He was aware of the age difference, hence the card he’d stashed away in the car while it was still parked at the apartment, but acknowledging that the man across from him had become a father figure to him was a bit different than their hostess actually mistaking them for a father and son. The second scenario was far more anxiety inducing that he thought it would be. 

Luckily for him, Radcliffe was more willing to make some pleasant conversation, and while he wasn’t exactly confirming the poor woman’s assumption, he wasn’t denying anything, either. “Actually, I don’t even think lunch was planned. Or maybe it was — Leopold has always been exceptionally good at surprising me.”

The use of his first name wasn’t necessary, unless playing into the charade was intentional, which might have been fun if he wasn’t trying to stop his hands from shaking. This entire thing might have been more fun if he’d actually thought ahead, or if there had been any point in his life where Father’s Day had actually meant something. It would have been easier with practice.

With a somewhat forced smile, Leo shook his head and reached for the menu that was set in front of him. “At least use  _ Leo  _ when we’re in public. My full name is far too pretentious. You know I hate it.”

He heard the gentle scoff from the other side of the table and he knew the hostess politely excused herself to go back to her job but his eyes never left the menu. There were quite a few options, and if they had come for lunch, they really should be focusing on  _ lunch _ , not whatever assumptions the people around them were going to make. At least he could confidently say they would be going back to the apartment, after this. He didn’t want to deflect and ignore the questions all day long. 

“You didn’t think today through at all, did you?” There was clear amusement in the other man’s voice, though neither of them looked away from the food options they were only barely focusing on considering.

“Shut up.”

* * *

When they were safely back at the apartment **(** _at least fifteen assumptions later_ **)** , Leo had grabbed the card from its hiding spot in the car and brought it in with them. He still couldn’t quite bring himself to stop hiding it — though it was in the inner pocket of his jacket, instead of behind his back, which felt like a step up. Or at least, less like he was hiding something and more like he was waiting for the right opportunity, like he wasn’t doing something completely dishonest and sneaky. Because he wasn’t. He was just immensely regretting his entire chunk of free time the day before. 

Of course, that was easy to forget about when, as soon as the door closed behind them, everything was back to normal. Radcliffe was still giving him a gentle teasing over forgetting that it was Father’s Day, the truth cleverly hidden behind a roll of Leo’s eyes while he made his way over to the couch. He hadn’t forgotten. Everything they’d done over every weekend for the last three months made sure he wouldn’t forget Father’s Day.

Before he could respond to the latest jibe toward his supposed forgetfulness, he was distracted by the  _ click  _ of the television turning on, and then a recording of a movie that he was about as likely to forget about as the holiday. It was his favorite monkey documentary, something that he’d only talked about a couple times, definitely something he’d never sat and watched in this apartment.

“When did you record this? I haven’t been able to catch this on cable for ages.”

He was too distracted by the screen to pay full attention to the cushion sinking next to him, easily distracted by the baby monkeys and the soothing voice over. “It was on last week. I set it to record while I was in the lab rereading a few studies.”

Leo smiled and shook his head, almost immediately relaxing back into the leather of the couch. It was almost too easy to settle into a routine whenever he was there, like being back in Scotland with his mother, only it was much cheaper to get to and easier to get the time off to do so. But he liked the feeling. Like home.

He hesitated before shifting in his seat, sitting up straight again. It was a good feeling, being  _ home _ somewhere again, and all at once his project made a little bit more sense. Taking a deep breath, Leo reached into his pocket to take out the slightly bent envelope and slowly held it out.

“I didn’t forget what day it is.”

It took a moment for Radcliffe to take the card, hesitantly pulling open the flap of the envelope to remove the card itself. The green letters across the front weren’t written perfectly, but they were legible enough —  _ Happy Father( Figure)’s Day.  _ When the words had been read and fully processed, the older scientist let out a laugh and shook his head. “How oddly specific of you.”

Leo shook his head quickly, feeling heat flood his cheeks while he tried to reach out to take the card back. “No. I don’t want you to have a good day anymore, you’re being mean.”

“This is  _ definitely _ going on the fridge.”

“ _ Radcliffe _ !”

* * *

When they had to empty out the apartment for evidence, Leo was only there to help for a few hours. The first and only thing he cleared was the fridge, putting everything into the evidence box except for the old homemade card that still hung there, under a ceramic monkey magnet. Those both went right into his jacket pocket.

* * *

The first Sunday of summer vacation was always exhausting, and Leo found himself shuffling around a passed out Thomas on the floor just to get to his kitchen. Somehow, he’d been talked into a night of drinks to celebrate the end of the chill year, and it had been a  _ long  _ time since he’d last felt so hungover. He needed water and a very full plate of greasy bacon and eggs. 

When he grabbed the supplies he needed and let the stainless steel door swing closed, he let out a sigh and stared at the paper he had on full display. It was under a chipped, ceramic monkey magnet, the same one it had been pinned up with in its original home, and the words had faded somewhat when it was folded for multiple moves, but he could still read his own writing. 

The irony of the fact that the word  _ Figure _ was the most worn away wasn’t lost on him, and he managed a small smile at the reminder of the truth he’d found out too late. And when he spoke, he kept his words at a whisper so he wouldn’t disturb the sleeping man in the next room.

“Morning, Da. Happy Father’s Day.”


End file.
